Truths
by katnisseverdennys
Summary: A conversation in the Godswood between Sansa Stark and the Red Viper seemed odd to her at first, but the Prince ends up making her an offer she can't afford to lose. HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

Lady Sansa Lannister liked walking. It was always a source of comfort for her in Winterfell when she needed to distract her mind and keep calm from her sister Arya's pranks, or Bran and Rickon's tantrums, and now in King's Landing, Sansa walked more than ever before. She particularly liked walking in the Godswood, even though it was nowhere close to being what she had grown up with. Robb and Jon used to chase her around the weirwood tree, scaring her with the same face carved into the tree by the Children of the Forest and tugging on her auburn hair and poking her frilly dress with branches. Their father, Ned, would sometimes catch them in the act, and pretend to be angry that they were desecrating the Godswood with their destructive antics, but he would always play Sansa's loyal knight and save her from her miscreant brothers.

But Lady Sansa's beloved father was dead. So was her Lady mother Catelyn and Robb. Bran and Rickon died in the fire that burned Winterfell to the ground, and Arya had been missing from King's Landing the day their father was arrested, and was most likely dead by now. Sansa wasn't sure about her half-brother Jon's fate up at the Wall, but maybe he was dead too, killed by King Joffrey's assassins. Sansa was the last remaining Stark left, the heir to Winterfell and Warden of the North, but Sansa knew nothing of being a warden or an heir, and Winterfell wasn't even really hers, not when it belonged to her goodfamily, the Lannisters.

Granted, her marriage to Tyrion Lannister was not ideal in the slightest, for either of them, but she appreciated that Tyrion would let her be, and not try to consummate their relationship. Tyrion seemed to hate the rest of his family as much as she did, so they did have a few things in common. She even thought he was quite witty, but it still didn't change the fact that his family had murdered hers in cold blood, and she didn't look at Tyrion for three days, spitefully sending him on his way whenever he tried to talk to her. She cried on her handmaiden Shae's shoulder for hours when she finally received news of Robb and her mother's deaths, and continued to sob into her pillow the rest of the night, fully aware that Tyrion was awake and listening to her bitter wails on the couch in their chambers. _Good, _Sansa thought, _this is only a small portion of the pain they have caused me._

Sansa sat on the small stone seat in front of the pond in the Godswood, trying her hardest to pray, but for what, she didn't know. There was no weirwood tree here, no sights that would take her home. She had no family to pray for anymore, not really. She briefly thought that she could pray that Stannis Baratheon would try to retake the city, or even for the safe return of the lost Targaryen Princess in Essos, as long as it meant the demise of the Lannisters. Sansa threw these thoughts away, instead concentrating on her reflection in the clear pond water below. Sansa had grown a little taller in her stay at King's Landing, her hips no longer narrow. She had tried to hide her growing curves behind full dresses and skirts, so that Joffrey would think her as ugly and not worth bearing his bastard children. She played with her auburn hair, slightly twisting it like she used to wear it back in the North.

"You look very much like your Lady mother." Sansa turned around quickly, alarmed at who had snuck up upon her. She saw Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne, toying with the leaves on some of the surrounding trees, picking a few off and twirling it in his hands, inspecting them for any signs of imperfection. He threw one away on to the ground, unimpressed by whatever he saw on the backside of it. "You are almost all Tully, makes me wonder if there is even any Stark in you." He grinned, still looking for more leaves. Sansa blushed red at his comments, wondering if the Prince had put a double meaning behind his words. Sansa stood up abruptly, and brushed her skirts so no dirt would lie on the silk, curtsying before the Dornish Prince, which he returned with a half-hearted bow.

"I apologize, my lord, I was not expecting any company," Sansa sputtered out. She never expected to face the Red Viper in all her years, not even when he showed up to King's Landing for Joffrey's wedding. She had heard all about him of course, Robb used to tell her tales of his prowess as a warrior when they were young, and their uncle Benjen would fill in the small details when he visited from the Wall. Uncle Benjen was the one to tell them that the Prince was not only a skilled spearman, but a learned man at the Citadel too, and operated his own mercenary company. Sansa thought such an accomplished man would be a very good husband, and dreamt of what the Viper might have looked like, until years later when the Starks traitorous ward Theon Greyjoy laughed in her face and informed her of his eight bastard daughters. Even Arya was taken with the tales of Prince Oberyn, the only time Sansa had witnessed her younger sister dream of being a lady, and she couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease her about it. Maybe Arya only liked the aspect of women being independent in Dorne. Sansa caught glimpses of him from her chamber window looking down at the Red Keep when he first arrived with his bannermen and lover Ellaria Sand, noticing that he still looked rather youthful for his age, and that his crow black hair was pushed back out of his face. Up closer, the Prince's hair was still pushed back, but Sansa could now see the lines in his forehead and near his mouth and eyes, his tanned, olive skin shone with light perspiration. Prince Oberyn didn't look haggard by any means, but she could tell there was some exhaustion in his posture, possibly tired from his journey, or from the cards that was dealt to him for so many years.

"Forgive me my Lady, I shouldn't have startled you in the midst of your prayers." Prince Oberyn smiled kindly at her, much different than the sneaking smile she had seen him give Tywin Lannister.

"What brings you to the godswood, my lord?" Sansa asked. Prince Oberyn raised his eyebrows briefly, picking another leaf and starting to walk over to wear Sansa stood in front of the stone bench. He motioned for her to sit, and held her hand gently as she swept her skirts to the side and sat down. He let her hand go and sat down with a huff beside her, making sure to count the leaves and sat down on his lap, his rough fingers holding onto to the stems tightly. His yellow cloak with beautiful orange suns, the Martell sigil shined brilliantly in the streaming sunlight of the afternoon.

"My sister Elia used to write me how peaceful the godswood in King's Landing was. We have none in Dorne, and my youngest daughters also requested that I go see it and send them a gift," He laughs but grows somber quickly. "I cannot give them my name, so I try to give them everything else." Sansa says nothing at first, confused that he actually cares for his baseborn children, but remembered that her own father loved Jon Snow very much, no matter his legitimacy.

"That's…very kind of you sir." Sansa says quietly, trying not to offend the Prince. He laughs again, somewhat bitterly though.

"You remind me of Elia. Too kind to say what was on her mind." Sansa feels twinges of regret at the Prince's statement. Everyone knew of Oberyn Martell's bloodlust for the people who murdered his beloved sister and her children, specifically for House Lannister. Sansa felt uneasy then, because even though she was a Lannister in name, she was a Stark in blood, and it was her family who had started the mess that was to follow. As if knew he knew what she was thinking, Oberyn chuckles and starts up again.

"I won't kill you because you are a Lannister."

"On the contrary my Lord, I thought you may harm me because I am a Stark."

Oberyn shakes his head at this, some of his pushed back hair falling onto his forehead. His black eyes look at Sansa with interest, noting that she is much smarter then he assumed. He noticed that she was around the same age of his eldest daughter with Ellaria, and he grew a bit sad.

"I do not harm little girls." He said with a note of finality and Sansa didn't dare say anything else. She wanted to believe him, but her experiences told her otherwise. They both looked out to the pathway leading out of the godswood, not saying anything to each other. Sansa fidgeted with her fingers, wincing when she touched her bruised wrist from her Joffrey twisted her arm. Sansa notices that the Dornish prince beside her is looking discreetly at her bruises and marred hands, and she sets her hands down on her lap, hoping the fringes on her sleeves will cover them.

"I do not hate the Starks." He announces suddenly, and Sansa looks up, surprised at his confession. Prince Oberyn looks at her and laughs at her surprised face. "The only people I blame are Rhaegar Targaryen, the Lannisters and the Mountain. A few more I loathe, but I will not go into detail about them."

"What of my lady aunt?" Sansa had heard rumors that Lyanna Stark had ran away with Rhaegar, instead of being abducted. The most popular and most widely accepted rumor was that Lyanna had been kidnapped by the Targaryen Prince. Of course the Martells would hate Lyanna Stark no matter the story because their daughter Elia and her children were abandoned. She had heard King Robert in her father's solar, drowning his sorrows over his dead betrothed in cups of wine, wishing he had killed Rhaegar a thousand times for raping and murdering Lyanna. Sansa didn't know what to believe, but she hardly thought her aunt so upset over her upcoming nuptials that she would forget her duty and run away with the Crown Prince of Westeros.

"The Usurper Robert was right about one thing. Rhaegar did abduct her, but he never raped her, or at least that's what she said." Sansa lifts her head at this, this proclamation is certain news.

"You met her? You met my aunt Lyanna?"

"Of course. I had the right too, Rhaegar stashed your poor aunt away in my country Dorne. I wanted to know what the hell the both of them thought they were doing by sending their families to war. I wanted to know why he betrayed my sister so grievously. Rhaegar wasn't there when I pushed my way past the few members of the Kingsguard and into Lyanna's chamber. I'm afraid she was at the beginning stages of whatever fever had taken her, and put on strict bed rest. She had another ailment that fell upon her, but I can't speak of that, it would be too much for you I'm afraid." He breaks off and looks at Sansa, enraptured in his tale. She knew nothing of Robert's Rebellion than the official history, and this was for certain new to her.

"Why did he take her? Why did he ruin so many families?" Sansa pleaded. She desperately wanted to know, because if Rhaegar hadn't taken Lyanna, her uncle Brandon wouldn't have stormed away threatening the Mad King and mayhaps married her mother Catelyn, and then Sansa wouldn't have been born, and she wouldn't be in the terrible state she was in today.

Oberyn sighed at Sansa's questions. She deserved answers, all of Westeros deserved answers. "There….was a type of prophecy that Rhaegar believed in deeply, called 'the Prince that was Promised'. He needed to have three children, one a boy but my sister was too sick after Aegon's birth," His foreign accent grew bitter and started to spit out the words. "He had no use for her," He spat.

Sansa was enraptured and horrified at the same time. Her blue eyes were widened in fear. "So he took Lyanna…"

"Yes. He took the lady Lyanna. She would be the ice in his song of ice and fire."

Sansa's head was in her hands at this point, she couldn't bear to listen what tragedy befell her family a generation before. Oberyn felt sorry for the Stark girl, that she would now bear the truth of the circumstances that surrounded the situation, but she needed to know. At least one member of the family deserved closure, and he couldn't bear to keep the truth inside of him any longer. He never saw it fit to write to Ned Stark, too angry after Elia's death that he ultimately forgot about Lyanna, but he also didn't see it right to send a raven to Winterfell regarding her abduction. He was sure Eddard knew about some aspects of Lyanna's death, he took the evidence home with him, but Eddard didn't know why his sister was kidnapped, why he fought a war.

If Oberyn had written that letter and it was intercepted, he and Eddard would have been arrested for treason.

"I…I'm afraid I cannot listen to anymore, Prince Oberyn." Sansa said, blinking away the tears in her eyes. She sniffed quietly, hoping not to embarrass herself.

"It's quite alright, Lady Sansa, the knowledge is too much to bear." Oberyn replied, looking toward the trees where he plucked his leaves from. Sansa fidgeted again, wary to ask the Prince anything now, after what she had found out, but she needed to know this one thing.

"Did my father know?" He is quiet for a few moments, and Sansa is worried if he didn't hear her at all.

"No."

Oberyn didn't know why he was telling the girl all of this. She was barely fourteen, and tortured almost every day because of Queen Reagent Cersei and her incestuous pissbaby son Joffrey. He came to get revenge, not for story time for northern children. He was impressed that the Stark girl managed to survive in the lion's den for so long, when nearly all her family is dead. _She was much more cunning than she looks_, Oberyn mused, looking her up and down. He narrowed in on the purple bruise on her wrist, and felt the rage seep into him. _This could have been my daughter, _Oberyn seethes.

"You should come visit to Dorne, I believe you would like it very much." He says at last, twirling his leaves, smirking. _She could survive in the sands_, he believes. He offers one leaf to Sansa, hesitating before she accepts it graciously. She admires the white veins in the red leaf, slowly tracing over them with her finger.

"That is a very kind offer your grace, but I am afraid that my interests lay here in King's Landing." Sansa offers, not looking him in the eye.

"You mean the Lannisters," Oberyn says quietly. Sansa can hear the quiet rage in his voice, wondering if his venom would start to leak. "How many times do they beat you in one day? Once? Three times? They married you to a whorish imp."

"I am the daughter and sister of the traitors in the North," Sansa says flatly. "I deserve everything, and they have been nothing but kind to me."

"Horse shit, Lady Sansa you shouldn't live in fear of everyone you meet." Sansa whips her head to Oberyn, starting to make her argument. "I saw the way you looked when I surprised you. You did you think I was? That little shit we call king? One of the members we call Kingsguard?"

"Please, your grace, I don't deserve such niceties." Sansa pleaded. She did not want the Dornish Prince to say treasonous things on her behalf. She looked around the godswood for any spies, ready to sell her out to the king.

"Lady Stark," Oberyn whispers, beckoning Sansa to come closer and she leans in, his sweet breath on her ear. "The Martells can offer you asylum if you plead it."

"Your grace…"

"It is entirely up to you."

"Please my lord, you have been so kind to me, tell me why." Sansa demanded to know. She knew there was an ulterior motive behind Oberyn Martell, and she refused to fall for it. She had fallen for Littlefinger's tricks many times, and his empty promises of returning her to her family. The Prince of Dorne backed down her stare, making her feel uncomfortable.

"The enemy of my enemy is a friend to me." He says simply, standing up and brushing off his trousers. He offers his arm to her, and Sansa stands gently, snaking her delicate arm through his, and they start to walk towards the entry of the godswood. Sansa's thoughts were in a disarray of emotions, and wondered what to do. The Red Viper was not to be trusted, that was for certain, but he spoke with her so gently like that of a father and offered her a place in his country. She knew there was some catch somewhere, but she didn't think long of it before Oberyn stopped them at the entry and took his arm away.

"I must take your leave, my Lady, and thank you for the conversation. I request that you visit my paramour, Ellaria Sand. She is a bit lonely in the Capitol, and I'm sure she would love to hear of tales from the North." He grins widely.

Sansa curtsied to the Prince and sticks her hand out, which he kisses gently, making Sansa blush red. "Thank you for the company, your grace, and I'll be sure to visit Lady Ellaria." She says timidly. Prince Oberyn smiles at this, and begins to walk away before turning back again, calling her name.

"I'll say it again…Dorne is always welcome to you Lady Sansa."

"They will never let me leave, your grace."

"A lion can use his strength all he likes, but wolves are much more cunning than an overgrown cat."

Sansa watches him walk away, a prowess to his gait. If she had just witnessed him walk by without saying a word to her, Sansa would have felt more intimidated by his presence then she did at the moment. She was still in shock that she had a conversation with the Red Viper, of all Dornish people! And to think, he invited her to Dorne! _Arya would be so envious of me, _Sansa thought with a grin. She still felt grievous towards her aunt Lyanna, and the ultimate truth of what happened to her, but she felt at rest knowing what truly happened. Sansa promised to herself that one day, her entire family will be avenged for the crimes committed against them.

Mayhaps Dorne would help her.

* * *

**AN: Not sure if I want to expand on this, so for right now it is a oneshot! I really wanted to explore Sansa and Oberyn's relationship to each other, without it being romantic. I don't think Oberyn would see Sansa in a romantic light because she is so young, and he had a daughter around her age too. I also wanted at least someone to know the "truth" about Lyanna because I think it is a huge driving force for everything else that happens after she disappeared, and that's how this plot bunny popped up!**

**And yes, I did imply that Ned Stark brought home Jon Snow because he was Lyanna's son. **

**Please review! It would be so appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

There was one week left until King Joffrey and Margaery Tyrell's wedding and Sansa couldn't wait. Joffrey, much to Queen Regent Cersei's displeasure, was spending much of his time wandering in the gardens with Margaery, making false promises to her as he once did with Sansa. She almost felt sorry for Margaery, who knew of her soon to be husband's cruelty towards her, but Sansa had seen Margaery manipulate him once, and she was certain that the Tyrell girl could undermine Cersei's control of the boy and wrap him over her finger in no time.

Sansa sat in her chambers alone, quietly nibbling on her midday meal of wheat rolls and crispy bacon with hearty porridge and a jug of orange juice. She didn't have much of an appetite these days, she hadn't since she was officially taken hostage. In the beginning her stomach used to beg for food, and Joffrey thought it funny to keep her starving for a few days at a time, but since then she had grown accustomed to the gnawing feeling and slowly ate less and less. Her old gowns from Winterfell had become tight on her quickly, but no one ever ordered any new dresses for her, making her feel even more ostracized in the courts when she wore gowns that would reach up to her ankles and with a tight bust. When Tyrion married her, he quickly had the seamstress come in and size her for new gowns in whatever style she wanted, and she felt so thankful towards her tiny husband that she felt she could actually kiss him. When she expressed her sincere thanks to him, Tyrion looked away and said "No matter, no Lannister Lady should be dressed as a Wildling.", but Sansa knew he meant no harm behind his words.

Sansa already started to feel bored in her chambers again, and wondered what she could do without having to go outside . When she first came to King's Landing, Sansa only wanted be with either Joffrey, the Queen, or giggling with the rest of the court and swooning over handsome knights in the garden, but now she resented her younger self for even thinking that she could have lived a happy life in this lecherous city. She had already read the books Tyrion leaves on his desk that he intends to read at night, but found his political strategy books to be a complete bore. She thought briefly about exploring the Dragon Pit and maybe even the crypts, but she was too noticeable with her flaming hair and tall curves, unlike small Arya who ran like a quick footed cat everywhere.

She wondered if Arya had started to grow after she left the Capitol.

Sansa sighed loudly and with a groan, made herself get up from her high backed chair and stretched her muscles, wincing at the sharp crack her bones made since she had been sitting in the same spot for a long time. She dusted the skirts of her emerald green dress and looked around her room. _I could sleep for some hours, _she thought, _but then I will have trouble sleeping at night. _And if there was anything Sansa _didn't _want to do, it was go down to Grand Maester Pycelle and ask for Essence of Nightshade. If Queen Cersei had been right about anything, it was that Pycelle was a pervert, and was known to try and lure maidens and wives alike alone to sit with him and have a physical "exam".

Suddenly, Sansa thought back to her conversation with Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne that she had only a couple of days ago. He asked her if she would be so kind to share a conversation with his love Ellaria Sand, as she was feeling terribly lonely in King's Landing. _That is something we share in common, _Sansa thought as she looked around for shoes. She would go and share words with the Dornish woman, and frankly she didn't care who saw. They only thought of her as a traitor anyways. Still, Sansa decided to be discreet, as she had heard the rumors of Prince Oberyn and Ellaria taking anyone into their bed, and Sansa really didn't want to be involved in that rumor in the case she had to explain it to her lord husband, or worse, the King.

Sneaking a look out of her door, Sansa saw no guards or anyone else wandering the halls and thought it safe to go out. Sansa snuck through the door quietly, shutting the door like a mouse. Now, the only problem was where the Lady Ellaria was staying at the moment. _Bother, I didn't think this through. _Sansa pursed her lips to the side when she was thinking deeply, and kept one hand on her hip. She picked the trait up from her lady mother Catelyn when she was angry with her children for causing a ruckus in the castle back at Winterfell.

"Where are you headed, my lady?" Shae asked behind her. Sansa whipped her head around, her hair falling freely over her shoulders. She knew she could trust Shae, they shared so much together that she even considered her a friend here.

"I….I was headed to see the lady Ellaria Sand." Sansa said. "But I don't know where she is staying currently. Do you happen to know?" Shae smiled, and pointed her in the direction of the Maidenvault, which Sansa thought extremely ironic. She didn't know that Tywin Lannister thought himself a funny man when he decided where the guests will stay for Joffrey's glorious wedding. Then again, Tyrion had to get his wits from somewhere. She thanked Shae, and asked for her indiscretion to where she was going, to which Shae nodded her head fervently. When Sansa walked off, Shae smiled to herself. She was glad to see her Lady start to go out on her own again, and knew some of the small confidence she had gained back was from Tyrion. She was still jealous that the two were married, but Lady Sansa was always kind to her lover, and never said a mean thing to him, not even call him Imp. Shae smiled and let herself into Tyrion and Sansa's chambers, stripping off her silky handmaiden's dress and waiting for Tyrion to return. _At least the little dove will not interrupt us now, _Shae grinned.

Sansa, however, was not grinning on her way to the Maidenvault. She already had ducked behind doorways in order to not be seen by some of Queen Cersei's handmaidens, and she knew they would sell her out for the Queen's good favor. "Seven hells," Sansa whispered to herself, hiding behind another doorway as two guards walked past, not noticing the obvious girl hiding from them. Sansa scurried the rest of the way there, keeping a careful eye out for people. There were more nobles staying in the Capitol than Sansa had ever seen before, and she quietly cursed them all for being out and about the Red Keep today. It was warmer than usual, and she felt small droplets of sweat dripping down her back in her full gown.

Finally, after what felt like the longest walk to the Maidenvault, Sansa arrived in front of the Dornish Prince's lair. She fidgeted for a minute, wondering if she should even knock. Maybe the Prince and his lover were having private moments, Sansa blanched. No, she came all this way, and she should at least let them know that she had kept her word that she would engage the Sand woman in conversation. She knocked lightly, and after a few moments, Sansa wondered if they were even in their room. She knocked again, a little harder than the last, and promised herself that she would run if no one came to door.

The door opened quickly, and Sansa found herself face to face with an olive skinned woman, thin and slightly taller than her. Her long face, brown eyes and full red lips made for a very beautiful face, and Sansa felt slightly intimidated. The woman quirked her lips, and pushed back all the curls resting on her shoulder and started to speak in a smooth, foreign accent, and Sansa found herself drawn in.

"You must be Lady Sansa, lover said you might be paying a visit." She smiled widely, showing her teeth, draping herself over the wall and toying with one of the curls that fell down on her face. Sansa blushed, wondering what sorcery this woman used to draw her in. _Does she have this effect on everyone? _Sansa wondered.

"And you are Lady Ellaria, yes?" The woman laughed at that.

"I am no Lady, dearest, I am a Sand. A bastard," Ellaria raised her eyebrows at Sansa, smirking. Sansa felt the blood go out of her face, and she felt like she wanted to die of embarrassment. "But I do feel flattered at your words, my lady, for you are the only one who called me a Lady without any mockery." Ellaria smiled nicely at her now, and Sansa let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, glad to see that the Dornish woman hadn't taken any offense at her ill thought words. "Please, come in, I will see to it that you are most welcome in our chambers."

Sansa stepped in quietly while Ellaria closed the door, wiping her brow and rushing Sansa to be seated. Sansa almost moaned when she sat down, the luscious red and orange cushions were incredibly soft, and felt as light as a cloud. She took in her surroundings, noting the silks that were flung everywhere, and a mountain of fruit on the table next to her. Ellaria comes back with a skin of some type of wine and she saw that a small squire had been brought it in holding a plate filled with sweet delicacies. Ellaria snapped her fingers while she sat down across from Sansa, and the squire gently lowered the plate onto the table, and then moved to pour the wine into two golden goblets with the Martell sigil on them. Sansa spied lemon cakes on the platter and her mouth started to water at the sight, and then thought of how rude and greedy she must have appeared in front of the Dornish woman. She looked towards Ellaria, hoping she would pick up on her apologetic face and Ellaria laughed, shooing the squire away out the door and picking up her goblet of red wine.

"No apologies needed my Lady, I have quite the sweet tooth myself." She swished her wine around and proceeded to drink, her long neck moving with the movements of her throat. Sansa picked up her goblet and took a small sip, making a small face at the sour taste. Dornish red wine, she noted, and then took another sip, which went down easier. Ellaria smiled at her young guest and was pleased that Oberyn would try and make a friend of her, but she was a little concerned with how innocent the girl seemed. _I suppose it's a good thing, _Ellaria takes a sip of her wine, _no girl can stay as innocent as she is during times of war. _

"Lady Sansa, please, you must eat something," Ellaria says. "I saw you look at those lemon cakes earlier, they are quite the delicacy." Sansa smiles shyly at her, and Ellaria likes the demeanor of this Lannister.

"Lemon cakes are my favorite." Sansa says quietly. Ellaria laughs again, and plucks one up and places it on a plate, giving it to Sansa, which she accepts graciously.

"You are like my youngest daughter, Loreza, oh she loves sweet things and constantly begs her princely father to indulge her." Ellaria smiles, and looks out the large window, peering at the docks, wistfully wishing to go back home. "Her favorite are lemon cakes as well." She says quietly.

"You miss them very much."

"Of course. I have four daughters waiting for me back in Sunspear. I miss them climbing over me for my attention, and oh, they have the sweetest laughter I've ever heard. They all laugh like their father." Sansa didn't know what to say. She was not a mother, so she could not empathize with Ellaria on missing her children. That isn't to say Sansa had never seen a mother's love. Her own lady mother didn't even see her off to King's Landing because she was so busy praying over her younger brother Bran's lifeless body. Even Queen Cersei had her own motherly moments, tenderly caressing her daughter Myrcella's cheek before she was sent off to Dorne.

"Have you written to them?" Sansa offers. Ellaria nods, and points her eyes away from Sansa, not wanting her to see the tears that gathered in her brown eyes, but it was too late. Sansa offered her handkerchief to her, which she took gratefully, and lightly dabbed at her eyes, picking up any stray tears that fell down her face. She tried to give the delicate grey lace handkerchief back to Sansa, but the girl shook her auburn hair. "You may keep it, please."

"It came from your house." Ellaria points out, fingering the delicate embroidered direwolf and the pretty blue roses on the edges.

"I am no longer a Stark, miss."

"We are always our families blood. No marriage will change that." They sit quietly after, both looking out the window towards the docks, watching the merchant ships come and go. Ellaria manages a sneak look at the Stark girl, noting her steely face. _She has lost her entire family due to her good relatives, yet she still tried to comfort me while I miss my darlings back in Dorne. _She took another sip of her wine, deciding it wasn't good for either of them to talk about the people they missed. She tried to think of a topic that would distract them both, but Sansa had already beaten her to it.

"Will you tell me about Dorne? I've heard so many tales, but no first hand experiences." Sansa smiled sweetly. Oberyn had told her that he invited the Stark girl to Dorne, to stay as a ward of House Martell, and Ellaria wondered if she was trying to dig for information to see if she thought it worth escaping this hellhole.

"Ahh Dorne. It can be harsh, but its beauty always overcomes it. There are many sands in Dorne, with small pools of water, and there are hanging gardens everywhere in Sunspear. It is a dream I see every night behind my eyes." She replied.

"Do they play the same games as they do here?"

"No, no thank the seven for that. All they ask foreigners in Dorne is not to judge them on their lifestyle. We are much more independent there, especially women."

"Is it true that women can just…."

"…Have relations?" Ellaria smirked. Sansa blushed at her own question. She couldn't imagine becoming intimate with someone outside of marriage, even if it was part of that culture. No, she was raised a Lady, and a Lady she would remain.

"Yes, we can, it is not frowned upon, just like our bastards. We love them all the same no matter their past." Ellaria makes it a point to emphasize the last part, and Sansa wonders if she is trying to give her a message. But why would Ellaria try to send a discreet message to her about people's pasts? _Does she mean to tell me that I am welcome in Dorne too? _Sansa wondered, taking a long sip of her wine.

"You know, Oberyn has already invited you to Dorne, but I shall extend the invitation as well." Ellaria announces.

"That's very kind miss, but my good family likes to stay together." Sansa says softly, trying to make the Dornish woman understand. She couldn't leave. The lions would never let go of the claws in her back. Ellaria clicks her tongue, pouring more wine into her cup and taking a long sip while staring at her. Sansa fidgeted under brown eyes stare, hoping she wouldn't find any of the bruises littering her body that were visible under her dress. The Prince had found them on her arms quickly, and she expected his lover to be just as keen.

"And does your good family love you, Lady Sansa?"

"Y..Yes."

"I didn't know that lions show their love by beating their children, but then they also share love between siblings as well."

"It…It's not as bad as it was. Since I've been married, they don't hurt me as much."

"Physically, maybe not so much. You still have bruises on your skin, so _someone _must be hurting you. I'd bet all of Oberyn's wealth that they still manage to hurt you emotionally." Sansa laughed sadly then, tears threatening to spill over, and Ellaria stood up and came over to where she sat, bending down to eye level.

"Prince Oberyn would be a very poor man then." Sansa sniffed. Ellaria gave her back her handkerchief and Sansa accepted it gladly. Suddenly the door to the room opened with a start and she and Ellaria whipped their heads around. Sansa quickly wiped her face of any tears before turning towards the door. Prince Oberyn sauntered in, shaking out his hair and wiping his face of any sweat that dripped down. "It's hotter than the Stranger's ballsack!" He exclaimed, wiping his hands on a rag. He was shirtless, wearing only brown leather trousers and a squire ran in, carrying the Prince's long spear, decorated with a long red viper circling the rod. He must have come back from the training yard. Ellaria went to greet him and Sansa stood from her chair, waiting to greet him as well, however she blushed and tried to look away when Ellaria greeted him with a passionate kiss, Oberyn grabbing her hips roughly, and tangling one hand in her mass of curly hair. Sansa tried to look away, playing with her fingers and toying with some of the grapes on the table next to her. They finally broke apart after what seemed like forever, and the Dornish Prince acknowledged the uncomfortable girl in the corner.

"Lady Sansa!" Oberyn grinned, hugging Ellaria to his body while she smiled, wrapping her arms around his middle. Sansa gave a curtsy towards him. "A pleasant surprise. I am pleased to see you befriending my love."

"The pleasure is mine, your grace. Um, I shall take your leave now."

"Oh please stay my Lady! Lover was just going to soak in a bath for a while. We can still converse! And you haven't told my anything of the North yet." Sansa smiled, and nodded her head yes. She had begun to really enjoy Ellaria Sand's presence. Ellaria shooed Oberyn away, and Sansa looked away as she sat down again when the Red Viper lightly tapped Ellaria's bum and snickered while moving to his bath in another room. As the hour turned into two, Sansa told Ellaria tales of the Children of the Forest and how the weirdwood trees came to be. She also told her of the ruckus she and her siblings would get into at Winterfell, both of them laughing as Sansa retold her the time when Arya bet Robb and Jon all of her silver stags that she could run faster than both of them, and they raced each other around the castle walls in the hopes of winning more allowance. Of course Arya lost, and Robb and Jon laughed and hung her by her legs before a particularly muddy puddle and teased her that she would never make such a bet again. Sansa laughed so hard at the memory, and Ellaria was having trouble reeling in her giggles as well. But the mood turned somber when their laughs died down, as Sansa peered out towards the docks, suddenly wishing to be back in her chambers at Winterfell, and Arya, Bran and Rickon bursting in to beg her to sing a lullaby. She now wondered how she once called her home 'Winterhell'.

"Sometimes I wonder if she is still alive. Arya." Sansa whispers.

"You would feel it if she wasn't." Sansa nods. She knows that much to be true. If Arya was dead, Sansa would feel pangs of death knocking on her chest harder than before.

"She had a large thirst for revenge." But Sansa didn't say that she felt her bloodlust growing too. Ellaria sighed.

"So does Oberyn. I worry about his thirst for vengeance. It's increased since we landed here."

"He wouldn't do anything rash, would he?"

"I don't know. He's too hot headed. I have to keep an eye on him so he doesn't start any trouble."

A door closed behind them, and they both witnessed the Prince come out of his bath, looking fresh while he dried his face. "Lady Sansa, will you do us the honor of joining us for supper?" He asked, pouring himself a cup of wine when he came to stand in front.

"I'm afraid I have a prior commitment. I am expected to join my husband and his family for dinner tonight." The Prince nodded and lifted his cup in mock cheers.

"To family."

Sansa stood up, realizing it was now time for her to leave. "Thank you for your hospitality miss Ellaria." Ellaria smiled at her and took her pale hands in her tanned ones.

"Thank you for keeping a lonely woman company, my Lady." Sansa smiled, and Ellaria moved to hug her. She gave Sansa a tight embrace, which reminded her of her lady mother's hugs, and she hugged tighter too. Ellaria moved to Sansa's ear and whispered.

"Keep your mind open about Dorne." Sansa drew back slowly, staring at Ellaria. She stared back as well, her brown eyes not wavering once, telling her everything she needed to know and Sansa finally knew that she could trust the Red Viper and his lover.

"I will."

Sansa withdrew from the hug and gave a curtsy to Prince Oberyn, to which he smirked and raised his glass in cheers. As Lady Sansa scurried out of the room, Ellaria wrapped her arms around Oberyn's waist, looking up at him as he took a thoughtful sip from his cup and stared at the door.

"What are you thinking lover?" Ellaria whispered, stroking his cheek.

"How quickly ice seems to melt in front of the sun." He grinned at the woman in his arms.

"You are keen in wanting her to come back to Dorne."

"I cannot leave another innocent girl in this stinking city. Never again." He took a longer sip as he contemplated the Stark girl.

Never again.

* * *

**AN: The response to this story was INSANE. I never expected so many people to like it, or to even _read_ it when I posted it! So I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations, and I want to thank you all for reviewing and following and giving me the inspiration I needed to continue. It means so much that you did.  
**

**Please review and tell me what you liked (or didn't like)! **


	3. Chapter 3

Lady Sansa's wedding feast was nowhere near as grand as King Joffrey's. She wondered the cost of such elaborate decorations, fearsome entertainers from across the narrow sea, and the _food. _If she had been the bride, Sansa was sure to have gorged herself on the amount of sweets there had been. Tables of cakes and pies and sweet fruits from the isles lined the festivities, and her mouth watered at the sights. She warned herself not to be a gluttonous pig when she sat down at the main table next to her lord husband, and only asked the servers for small portions of richly favored meat with her favorite sauce, and some rolls on the side.

Unfortunately, she had lost her appetite when King Joffrey called for his entertainment some ten minutes back. She could only stare at the dwarfs dressed as the five warring kings in front of her. She was aware that King Joffrey was especially watching her for her reaction, but she made sure to keep a steely gaze at the little men running around in front of them. She couldn't keep her eyes off the man lying on the ground with a fake wolf head on top of him, pretending to be dead. Her husband Tyrion looked at her with a worried glance, covering her hand with his scarred one, but she pulled her hand away as soon as she felt him touch her. He looked back towards the front, staring where his young wife was, trying not to grab Cersei's or Joffrey's attention.

"If you are feeling ill, I can escort you to a maester." He said, trying to give her an excuse to leave the feast. But Sansa would not budge. She knew it was a plot by Joffrey to make her feel sick and look like she was abandoning her nephew to grieve for her traitorous brother. She would not fall for his tricks any longer though.

"I am fine, my lord."

Tyrion leaned in, as close as he could without drawing any unwarranted attention. "My lady, anyone can see that you are not."

"We are here to celebrate His Grace's wedding ceremony, and he has provided such nice entertainment for us." She said loudly. Tyrion glanced to his left, where he could see his sister Cersei leaning in, trying to listen to their conversation. She had her pale hand resting on Tommen's arm, making it look like she was just mothering her youngest son, but he knew his sister too well for that, and Sansa had caught on how the former Queen reagent worked quickly. _If only her Kingly brother had learned so fast, we wouldn't be watching a reenactment of his death in the first place. _Tyrion thought wryly, taking a long sip from his goblet of wine.

"Imp! Come here and pour me my wine!" Her king nephew called her husband mockingly. She rolled her eyes and looked out into the throngs of nobles from all over Westeros sitting and enjoying themselves. She caught a quick glimpse of Prince Oberyn Martell a few rows back, Ellaria Sand on his lap and lovingly feeding him grapes and berries, the intimate look they both gave each other made her want to turn her head. But the Prince had seen her turn her head at them, and he smirked while raising his cup of wine. Ellaria smiled devilishly at her once she saw what her lover had been looking at her, and whispered something in his ear and he nodded. She left his lap in a flourish of orange and yellow robes, and Sansa could hear all the way over from where she was sitting the clanging of the fashionable chains Ellaria wore on her head and shoulders. She wondered where the Prince's paramour was leaving to, and it looked like she was walking her chambers in the Maidenvault. _What business is so important that she leaves for the feast so quickly? _Sansa wondered. She turned back to Prince Oberyn, wondering if he would give her some clue, but she didn't find him in his seat. She briefly looked around the area, wondering if he had really been in a different seat, but after scanning the area, she concluded that he left when she was too busy staring at Ellaria's departure.

"Little bird, whom are you looking for?" Former Queen Cersei had called to her, attracting Sansa's attention away from the nobles and over to where her good sister sat. The former reagent stared her down, her green eyes looking her up and down, her blond hair piled atop of her head in the fashion of the court, and her gleaming red dress with armor covering her torso made her look like the lioness she aspired to be, and Sansa was her next meal. She flickered her eyes to her lord husband, who was facing off with an angry king. Cersei raised her carefully done eyebrows at her, looking for an explanation.

"No one, Your Grace." The Queen pursed her thin lips at her, unimpressed with her answer, growing slightly impatient with the girl's constant daydreaming.

"Careful dove, someone may think your faraway looks as desire…or suspicion." She turned back to her meal and stabbed it quickly, staring at her insolent dwarf of a brother, huffing while her lord father Tywin gave her a pointed look. Sansa leaned back in her chair, sighing in relief. She didn't like the tone of Cersei's last words to her, but if anything, she had learned by now that most of what she said to her was an empty threat or a beating by the Kingsguard. She watched the drama unfold with her husband and Joffrey, growing tired of the King's foolishness. The new Queen Margaery tried to defuse the situation by announcing the arrival of the pie, but when she fed Joffrey a piece, he only claimed it dry.

"Uncle! Where are you going! I need my wine!" He growled, as Tyrion tried to sit in his spot again. Sansa looked back and forth between the two men, watching them stare each other down.

"Your lady aunt is tired, Your Grace. I believe we will retire to our chambers early."

"For what? It's not like she'll open her legs for you," He laughed, getting some of the nobles in front to snicker. "No. You'll stay _here. _Now, pour me my wine." Tyrion sighed, and accepted the King's golden goblet from Margaery, and poured his wine without any grace, letting some splash on the floor. Joffrey was getting visibly angry now, his face turning red, and her husband handed their nephew his cup of wine, bowing.

"_Your Grace," _He said pointedly, and stood back while the King took a sip from his wine. Joffrey drank greedily, coughing slightly. He started to cough more violently, a nasty pink colored phlegm spilling from his lips. "He's choking!" cried Queen Margaery and a sudden influx of guards and people started to crowd around. Joffrey fell to the floor, vomiting curdled blood and whatever had been left of his meal. His face started to turn black and blood streaming out of his nose and eyes. It was a gruesome sight, and Sansa looked away, nauseous as he started to tear at his throat. Queen Cersei ran to her son, cradling him in her arms, screaming for help. Sansa stood up at the commotion, and felt a slight tug on her dress sleeve. Ser Dontos stood beside her, in his fool's hat and clothes, tugging on her dress faster and looking around quickly.

"We must leave, my Lady."

Sansa tried to get him to stop tugging on her sleeve, but he became more insistent. "My Lady, it is the most utmost importance. You must leave King's Landing, and it has to be _now._" Sansa stopped trying to fight him then, recognizing a sort of look in his eyes. It was the same look her lord father gave her when he told her that her engagement to Joffrey was over, and she cried and cried and told him she loved him. Sansa knew in that moment that she had to follow Ser Dontos. She stepped down from the main stage, and Ser Dontos led her through the mass of nobles now gathered around. In the midst of their escape, Sansa's shoe became stuck but she knew there was no time, and shook both of them off desperately, electing to go barefoot it that's what got her out of this stinking city. Suddenly, former Queen Cersei's wails cut through all the commotion, and she and Ser Dontos stopped for a minute, looking back. Sansa could her hear scream "You did this! You poisoned my son! You did this!" and her eyes became wide. She turned towards Ser Dontos, and he understood, both of them running as fast as they could without being seen by the guards or any servants. He led them to the Maidenvault and Sansa stopped him, out of breath and rearranging her skirts.

"Ser Dontos, my chambers are not here!"

"No my Lady, but the person behind this plan resides here. Quickly, they will be looking for you." He grabbed her hand in his fat one and tugged her forward leading her through the sunlit corridors. _He is leading me to the Prince of Dorne! _At last they arrived in front of the chamber doors of the Prince and it flung open, Ellaria pulling Sansa inside immediately, motioning for Ser Dontos to come in as well. Ellaria flung some dirty clothes at Sansa, a pair of trousers and a well washed tunic. She led Sansa into the privy and looked at her, undoing Sansa's delicate court styled hair and letting the fiery waves tumble down her back, fully removing the purple and silver hairnet and throwing it to the side.

"You must change, you leave for Dorne now." Ellaria unfastened the clips of Sansa's dress, but she drew back, covering herself.

"What? Now? But I'm not ready!" Sansa cried.

"I'm afraid that does not matter. Lover overheard of a plot to kill the boy king and he sought to help you escape at once," Ellaria leaned in closer, whispering in Sansa's ears. "There is a ship leaving for Dorne in matter of minutes, we must get you there no matter what. Now, remove your dress. Have you ever worn trousers before?" She helped her out of her heavy gown and removed the corset that was controlling Sansa's movements.

"No," Sansa murmured, trying to cover her curves as best as she could.

"It's an odd sensation, but you'll grow used to it. Come closer to me, we have to bind your breasts." Sansa winced as Ellaria started wrapping a long fabric across her torso, making her breasts look smaller and giving her the impression of being a small man. She slipped on the dirty tunic, wrinkling her nose at the sour smell and red wine stains splattered all over it. Ellaria had to help her into the trousers, and Sansa didn't like the sensation of the fabric right next to her skin. She didn't like the feeling of being dirty at all. Ellaria pulled her into the main room of their chambers, where Ser Dontos was waiting anxiously. Ellaria gave Sansa a massive stormy grey cloak. "You will pretend to be a silent sister on your way to the docks. Oberyn may plan for you to pretend to be one for the entire journey." Fixing the cloak over Sansa's forehead and shrouding the rest of her face, only Sansa's eyes could be seen if you looked close enough. "You must hurry now. They are surely looking for you." Ellaria led her to the door, and held her hands, Sansa holding hers tightly.

"You are not coming with me?" Sansa asked, terrified to go by herself.

"No my Lady, you must journey by yourself I'm afraid. The men aboard the ship are loyal and true to Oberyn, and will not harm you."

"What of Ser Dontos? He is loyal to Lord Baelish." Sansa whispered, looking at the fool. Ellaria laughed slightly, and opened the chambers, fixing the cloak atop of Sansa's head.

"Loyalty is bought so easily, dearest, you must remember that. Now go. Don't look back. Go." She pushed Sansa out the door, Ser Dontos following behind. "Take care while you go down to the docks. Do not rush, but do not dawdle either. Dontos," She said sternly at the drunken fool. "Cover your tracks well." He nodded at the Dornish woman insistently, making her roll her eyes and turn back to Sansa.

"Take care sweetling." Sansa had wanted to say goodbye for Ellaria's kindness towards her, but she could not remove the shroud and the former knight was already escorting her out of the chamber, the both of them briskly walking towards the docks where she would be shipped to Dorne. Ser Dontos covered his face well, but she was wary that someone would stop them and force her to remove her cloak. It didn't seem to be that case though, as most people assumed she was a silent sister and steered away from her, scared of her deathly touch. She almost laughed. _I'm almost the cold and deadly thing they think I am. _She looked at the former knight in front of her, wary of his intentions. Prince Oberyn may have bought his loyalty but how long would before Littlefinger bought it back, and with what repercussions? If the man was just doing it to get more wine in his belly, fine, but with his drunken mouth, her secret that she left for Dorne would spill out, and then their lives would be in jeopardy.

When they finally reached the docks, Ser Dontos led her to a large ship with massive sails. _The Unbent_ she was called. Carefully walking up the pathway leading to the deck, Sansa walked tall and confident, trying to make sure no one knew of her identity underneath the grey cloak. The bells in the Red Keep were ringing, one after another, informing the city that the King was dead. It seemed to be a representation of a dead Sansa too, because she was finally leaving. Her old self that loved songs and romantic stories, and chivalrous knights was dead, and finally the bells tolled for her. At the top of the deck, she saw tanned men working to set sail, running everywhere to get everything ready to leave the bay. She saw two men near the mast, talking deeply. She recognized Prince Oberyn's golden satin robes of red suns spotting everywhere and a smaller man with a pudgy face and deep set eyes talking animatedly, asking the Prince for something. She wondered if she should interrupt and thank the Dornish man profusely, because of him, she would still be rotting in this city. She felt big fat tears well up in her eyes and tried her best to control them, not wanting to alert anyone that the odd postured silent sister was crying. Prince Oberyn turned around, seeing Sansa and grinned, beckoning her to come over. She walked slowly, holding onto her sleeves as the rough sea wind blew into her face.

"Sweetling, you look dreadful," He laughed and put a strong hand on her shoulder, almost throwing her off balance. He turned to the pudgy man, a sudden change in his demeanor. "Captain, this is my bastard Perella Sand." The man's eyes widened, and looked her up and down, muttering 'The Stranger be upon me,' and turned to Prince Oberyn, incredulous.

"You want me to escort a damn silent sister to Sunspear?" Prince Oberyn then grabbed the man by his shirts and pulled him close to him, a dangerous look in his eyes and the captain's eyes proceeded to widen further.

"You will not question my authority, _captain," _Oberyn sneered. His black hair pushed away from his face, Sansa noted that his profile looked dangerous in the streaming sunlight of the midday. His lips curled into a sneer, he continued. "Escort the girl back to Sunspear and you will receive your promised payments. Failure to do so will cost you gravely." The captain nodded, and the Prince let him go, turning to Sansa and escorting her away from the hustle of the sailors, going below the deck and turning into a small cabin. The cabin itself was just a tad smaller then her chambers at the Red Keep, but the drabness inside was a depressing sight. She thought a Dornish ship would be more colorful and lively.

"I'm afraid you will be referred to as Perella Sand from now on, my Lady. I hope you take no offense, but bastards are treated well in Dorne. I have already sent ravens to my brother and my daughters about your impending arrival. You'll have to remain a silent sister for the duration of your journey however," Oberyn said, looking out the small window in the cabin, right next to the little bed that Sansa would now sleep on.

"Your Grace…I cannot thank you enough for your kindness." Sansa said sincerely, removing the grey cowl that covered her mouth. "But why now? Why do I have to leave now?" She asked, uncovering her veil, letting her hair fall free as her eyes looked around freely now. She stared at the Prince for an uncomfortably long time, watching him appraise her. She had a feeling she could trust the Red Viper, as intimidating as he was, but this sudden escape made her grow wary again. Did he have some other intentions when she arrived in Dorne? Would she be a hostage for the Martells instead of the Lannisters now? He chuckled then, shaking his head and looking back out the window at the muddy waters of Blackwater Bay. He removes a letter from the inside of his satin robes, and walks over to Sansa slowly, his black boots creaking over the floorboards of the ship. He hands the letter to her, which she takes hesitating. The name _Perella Sand _was scrawling lightly over it.

"They keep you ladies north of Dorne too stupid for my tastes. Hopefully you will know more of the world by the time I arrive back in Dorne." He smirks. He looked ever the viper in the low light of the cabin, towering over Sansa. He started to walk away before he turned again to face her.

"You may want to brush up on the duties of a silent sister. The crew will be frightened of you," He laughs and disappears out of the door. She could still hear his footsteps going up the wooden stairs and onto the deck and the world outside. She rushed to close her door, overwhelmed by the day's events. In so little time, so much had happened. _Joffrey is dead, and I am finally leaving my hell, _Sansa thought. But she still couldn't be truly happy. After making sure the door was locked sufficiently, she made to sit on the little bed with a grey quilt. All around her was grey, and she was only reminded more of Winterfell and its grey walls and grey room and grey air and grey people. All her life she thought the grey was boring, but now, rocking herself on the hard mattress in her grey cabin, Sansa wished more and more to go back home, to rebuild her grey home and its humble rooms. She started to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks at the pain of remembering her home and her dead family, their grey corpses rotting under the ground somewhere. Burying her head in her arms and laying down on the hard pillow she was provided, Sansa sobbed loudly, finally relived she could cry without spies watching and listening to her. She moaned her brothers names in grief, and wished Arya was still alive so she could hug her little sister tightly and never let go. She was finally giving her family the tears they deserved. She briefly thought if this was how her aunt Lyanna felt when she received news of her brother and father's death by the king, grossly in pain and exhausted. It was only when the ship started to move and sail away from King's Landing, that Sansa remembered the letter the Prince of Dorne had given her, and scooped it off the floor. Wax with the sigil of the Martell family covered the back, and she cut it open with the force of her fingers, still hiccupping from the force of her tears. She started to read, slightly confused by the Prince's lettering before she realized that her vision was blurry from still crying, and wiped her face with the grey cowl she removed earlier. Finally after she calmed down, did she process the words on the page.

_Perella,_

_Tis such a shame I must send you off in the most awful manner with only a letter, but I have had many arrangements I had to send for. You are probably wondering why I've sent you off to Dorne with such little extravagance, but much privacy was needed in these dangerous times. You see, it was only recently that I was aware of my ninth bastard daughter residing in King's Landing, and with the occurrence of the King's wedding, it was the perfect time to acknowledge you. I had the pleasure of overhearing a scheme made by the Queen of Thorns and Littlefinger to poison the raging king, and they planned on pinning the murder on Lord Tyrion Lannister and his poor wife Lady Sansa. They poisoned the king's cup with the crystals from the young lady's hairnet. A pity really, the girl was so nice, but had no backbone at all. With the incest queen running the trial, I'm sure they will be executed in no time. It's a shame you had to miss all the fun, but it was better idea for you to spend time with your newly acquainted sisters in Dorne. They need more silent sisters anyways in the towers. You will reach Sunspear in a fortnight, and your uncle Doran shall await your arrival. _

_Silence is quiet the double edged sword, sweetling. The more silent one is, the more bold his enemies become. But it is the silent padding of a wolf's feet that tear throats apart._

_We shall meet soon again with the Seven's blessing,_

_Your father,_

_Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell of Dorne. _

Sansa's tears had dried on her cheek, and she reread the letter from Oberyn over and over again. She was in shock to hear that the Tyrells had planned to pin Joffrey's murder on her and her husband Tyrion. She wanted to vomit as she held her head in her hands, shaking frightfully. That means Ellaria and Oberyn planned her escape to save her from certain death, and gave her a new identity as a bastard to stop spies from reporting her. She fell to her knees, thanking the Old Gods and the New for being merciful to her.

But this new information meant that now she was regarded as a Kingslayer, along with her lord husband Tyrion. The people would talk, that poor Lady Sansa was still given a place in the Keep thanks to the generous Queen Cersei despite her treasonous family, but in the end she was still a traitor to the crown, no matter what. It was in her blood after all. The ship was just barely moving out of the bay now, and Sansa could still hear the bells tolling, ringing out for everyone to hear that Joffrey was dead on the first day of the new century, and she fully believed that none of the smallfolk would give a rat's ass. She stood up, shaking a little as the ship rocked slightly, in tune with the murky blue waters below and stood at the window. A part of her would miss King's Landing, but she assumed it was only her innocence she was mourning. A knock rapped on her door, and she panicked.

"M' lady? Are you well? We have supper if you'd like," She recognized the voice belonging to the captain. She reached for the grey cowl and wrapped it around her face, tucking her think auburn hair into her veil and covering her forehead. She would have to be silent in front of all these people, but she would endure it. Anything to get out here. She opened the door slightly and saw the man shiver at the sight of the grey woman in front of him.

She would do anything at all.

* * *

Across the bay, and resting in their chambers in the Maidenvault, the Red Viper and his lover were embraced in a passionate kiss on their bed, becoming more sensuous with every second passing. Ellaria broke away with a gasp and chuckled, running a finger across his bare chest.

"You'll have to kill the fool, lover. He can't be trusted." She breathed across his face, smiling when she saw his eyes cloud with desire. He chuckled while she pushed his black hair out of his face. He pinched a small portion of skin around her hips, laughing when she gasped.

"Of course my love. Anyone that drunk will announce a peasant as the king."

"Have we done the right thing?" She asked, her face serious.

"Dearest, when opportunities arise, you should take them," He grinned, running a finger down her spine. "She could strengthen us in Dorne."

"I don't understand your politics," She retorted. He smirked and kissed her once more.

"Liar."

* * *

**AN: I hope this chapter lives up to your guy's expectations! Seriously, the response to these past two chapters were crazy, and it's so weird to think people actually _like _it. So thank you thank you thank you!**

**ALSO, Lyanna does have a bigger part in this story, not huge, but she has her influences! I'm adding this because someone asked the relevance of her in the first chapter, so she is kind of important! Just so you know!**

**Please review!**

**EDIT: I had to delete the chapter because I made a huge mistake so Sansa's alternate name is different now.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Brother,_

_My wolf bastard will arrive in Dorne in a week by the time you will receive this letter. She has never shed her grey shroud, and I believe she could be of value for the Martell cause. See to it that she is accommodated well at Sunspear, and if you wish, you may send her to the Water Gardens. _

_I've warned the girls that another sister has come to join their pit. Forgive me, I didn't mean to leave you with warring nieces. _

_The little lion man has been arrested for the murder of the King and has demanded a trial by combat. The queen has chosen the Mountain as her champion, and I have volunteered as the imp's. I will bring home his head brother, I swear it on my life. With one victory comes ten more, and we will avenge our dear sister and her children. The Lannisters will hear no one roar but I._

_Pray to the Gods that I am victorious,_

_Oberyn_

Doran Martell sat in his solar with the sun streaming in, illuminating the room and the letter he sat reading. He sighed heavily, scratching at his gouty hands and cursed his willful younger brother. He never thought things through, and not only was he going to fight the man who killed his sister, but he had sent the only living Stark girl as a ward under the context as Oberyn's ninth bastard. "If her husband is wanted for treason, she is wanted as well." He muttered. What the hell is his brother thinking? Dorne wanted no part in the rest of the kingdom's petty war, watching quietly for the perfect moment to strike, but it was not to be when the youngest Martell brother had to involve a damn _Stark _in his plans. How could he justify this? Doran spent some time thinking about what good come from this, trying to retrace Oberyn's thinking when he thought the girl would make a good alliance. He called Areo Hotah into his solar, his broad shouldered captain walking in with his longaxe, looking impassive. Doran waved for him to sit, to which Areo looked even more confused. They sat in silence for some time, Doran looking for the right words to say.

"My brother is a bloody fool," He grits out at last.

"Is something wrong?"

"He sends us the remaining Stark child and plans to champion for the Lannister imp against the Mountain." Doran breathes heavily at that. He closes his eyes and reminds himself to breathe, wringing his hands together and wincing at the shooting pain from the gout.

"What good will the Stark girl do? She's wanted for treason." Areo pointed out.

"Aye, but he sends her as his bastard."

"His reasoning?" Areo's heavy Norvosi accent stained the room, carrying over the Prince of Dorne's head, and reminding him of his estranged wife and her light voice, crashing into his mind like the waves on the rocks below the tower he lived in.

"Uncle!" He heard a voice call from outside his solar, and more joined with it. Doran groaned, for now he had to deal with his brother's bastards, who guessed that they had received their father's raven about their impending "sister's" arrival in Sunspear. The elder Sand Snakes were too clever for their own good, and would certainly know something is rotten in the kingdom of Dorne. Obara Sand burst through the door, knocking the guard to the ground and stepping over him, a look of anger crossing her face, leaving deep heavy lines burrowing into her forehead. Elegant Nymeria crossed the confused guard next, her head held high and a look of contempt on her face, rolling her eyes as she fixed the serpent bracelet on her upper arm and shimmered in the flowing red silk that covered her slender body, her golden brown skin gleaming from the light streaming in through the large window that overlooked the Narrow Sea. She glared at her uncle as she stomped into the room, but was distracted by Obara's booming voice.

"What is the meaning of this?" She slapped down a letter onto the table, rattling the golden goblet that held his favorite wine. Doran barely noticed when Tyene Sand stalked into the room quietly, a pensive look on her fair face and blonde hair trailing down her back. It was a letter from his brother, most likely explaining to his daughters about their supposed new sister he was sending away from the bustling capitol. Obara's hard face grew angrier as Doran stared up at her from his seat, the lines in her forehead growing deeper and a sneer quirking her thin brownish pink lips.

"Father never mentioned a ninth daughter living in King's Landing," Nymeria trailed off, staring at her impassive uncle. He stared back at Oberyn's three eldest children and cursed the days his brother got them in their respective mother's womb.

"And why would he retrieve her after so many years in a place he hates?" Tyene murmured, wringing her wrists. Obara nodded at her half-sister's statement.

"He would never allow a child of his to live in that spider's nest."

"As soon as he would have heard about her existence, he would have ridden his steed out of the city by the hour to retrieve her."

"He went to the capitol for revenge, not a daughter."

"He hasn't even been to King's Landing since the end of the rebellion!"

"It makes no sense, Uncle."

Doran closed his eyes painfully, and brushed his graying hair out of his aged face. "Shut the door Obara." His niece pursed her lips but did as she was told, her training armor clanging as she walked heavily. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a tight braid stemming from her crown, and she looked angrier than usual. Shutting the door with a heavy thud, she turned back to Doran, glaring.

"Explain."

"Careful girl," Doran gritted out. "I may be your uncle but you will address me with the respect due a Prince of Dorne." Obara rolled her eyes and scoffed while Nymeria approached his desk.

"What is the meaning of this, _my Prince?_" She asked mockingly.

Doran sighs heavily, adding more wine to his cup. "Your father has no ninth child, _yet. _He sends the lone Stark wolf to Sunspear."

"What?"

"Has he gone mad?"

"And he intends to champion for a _Lannister?_"

Doran raises his hand, cutting off his nieces angered rants. "Your father," he explains. "Plans on bringing us the head of the Mountain, and believes Sansa Stark can be vital to our plans." The Sand Snakes looked at each other then, disbelieving.

"But she is a Lannister now." Nymeria mentions.

"From what I've heard, in name only. There have been rumors flying that her marriage goes unconsummated." Tyene replies.

"Does father mean to use her as leverage against the Lannisters?" Obara asked.

"But for what?" Doran interjected, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He didn't mean to voice his thoughts out loud for the Areo and the girls to hear, it wasn't careful of him. "Amory Lorch is dead, and assuming he is successful in the Imp's trial he will bring back Clegane's head. All that's left is the destruction of the Lannisters."

"If he sends ravens to King's Landing informing Tywin that Sansa is in Dorne, the Lannisters would be indebted to our house for the return of a Kingslayer." Nymeria remarks, toying with her long braid.

"You are all over thinking." Areo announces. Everyone turns towards him, surprised he was joining the discussion. Doran raises an eyebrow at his guard, and waves for him to continue, interested in what he had to say. Areo was a perceptive man, and he would catch on to things that his guards, or even Doran, would miss.

"How old is the girl?" Areo asks.

"I believe she passed her fourteenth name day."

"Aye, and who else does the Viper know of that age?" Areo points out. Nymeria gasps.

"Elia…" She whispers, and Doran can see Obara visibly tense at her younger sister's name.

"He could have simply been reminded of Elia when he was with the girl. And call your brother callous as much as you want, we are all aware that he is compassionate when it comes to the matter of children." Areo looks at Doran. "Of course, he's not stupid enough to send her to Sunspear because he feels mere pity for her. She is the lone Stark, _an heir. _Winterfell, and the entirety of the North, is hers."

There is silence as this revelation plays out. Doran plays with the quill in his gouty hands, his eyebrows furrowed with deep thinking. Oberyn has played his games well enough that Doran cannot figure out his exact thinking. He supposed it was because he knew that his older brother would question every angle of why Sansa was sent to Dorne's head seat. In the case of anything happening to Oberyn during the trial, he had to cover all his tracks so Dorne would stay safe from Cersei's rage. Harboring a fugitive such as Sansa was a dangerous game to play, but then again, Doran was used to playing these games, much longer than anyone else in the Capitol was. His mother taught him the dance of mystery one must perform to be a successful leader and keep your country safe, and he had been in power since after his sister's first child had been born.

"Father means to make the girl Queen?" Obara asked.

"But the Boltons were rewarded the North." Tyene said.

"No house in the winter lands is loyal to Bolton. The Stark loyalists will continue to fight them." Nymeria pointed out. "To them, Sansa is their Lady of Winterfell and Queen in the North."

"Prepare some chambers for the girl," Doran murmured. "We treat her like any highborn guest."

"What of Myrcella Baratheon, my Prince?" Tyene asked.

"Don't let her know of Lady Sansa's arrival. She will have to pretend to be your sister, and until we can fully put Myrcella under our control, she shall not know of the Stark's presence." The Sand Snakes all gave each other looks, wondering if they should obey their uncle, but in the end they did, for it was their father who sent their girl, and asked them to keep watch over her until he arrived home. Doran excused the girls and Areo to leave, watching the windows and looking for any sign of a storm coming.

"Lady Sansa," He whispered to no one. "You are either a gift or a curse."

* * *

Lady Sansa was miserable. She had been sick on the ship almost every day for a fortnight and wondered desperately when they would finally arrive to the capitol of Dorne. She had been shrouded in her Silent Sisters garments the entire journey, and she pleaded with the Old Gods and New that she'd be allowed to bathe on her arrival. The sour, dank smell of the ship made her even more nauseous as well, and she was frequently leaning out of the window to vomit her meager meals. She rested her clammy head on the hard pillow she was given, trying to sleep for some hours to escape the hell she was on when a loud knock rapped on her cabin door. Sansa tried to ignore it, remembering that she could not speak to the crew members or the captain because of their belief that she was a Silent Sister, but the knocking persisted, and the voice calling out M'Lady behind the door was the captain. Sansa groaned lowly as she got up from her bed, and quickly rearranged her shroud and veil, covering her hair and face, and walked slowly, trying not to rock with the ship. She opened the door slightly, watching the captain become nervous in front of her. He stretched out his dirty hand at her, offering an small orange, the tangy smell of it filling the air. Sansa accepted it greedily, and nodded her head once in thanks.

"M'lady, we arrive in Dorne shortly, please gather whatever you 'ave." The captain left in a hurry, looking back with a worried look on his face as if she would curse him, but Sansa didn't mind. She would finally get off this wretched ship and be _safe. _She only hoped that no one from King's Landing had not followed her whereabouts and follow her to Sunspear, then that would mean the Martells would be branded as traitors as well for hiding her. She gathered her very few possessions, like her mother's pin that she wore on the inside of her shirt, her beloved sigil necklace and Oberyn's letter, sitting on the bed and waiting with anticipation to be called out on the deck. She watched from the window as the landscape changed from the dark murky sea to clear, turquoise blue waters crashing gently on one another and onto the rocks of the mainland, a looming tower and castle on the hard, ragged cliffs coming into views. Sansa was enraptured by the view of the home she would be staying in.

After a few moments, Sansa felt the break of the waves decrease, and a smooth sail and she felt the ship land on the pale white sand. She could see an a line of guards moving to surround the ship, but before she could see them in action, her cabin door was suddenly pushed open by the captain, who motioned for her to come with him. She gathered her few things and followed him closely behind, wrinkling her nose at the damp smell of wood while walking up the stairs, the Dornish sun illuminating her view. She hadn't been out of the small cabin she was given at all since her journey to Dorne started, and Sansa squinted her eyes, blinded and unused to the bright sunlight after weeks. The crew members kept their distance away from her when she arrived at the top of the deck, a mixture of fear and uncertainty written on their faces, and Sansa wondered how they would reacted if they had found that she was in fact, not a Silent Sister, but a highborn lady accused of treason against the Crown. Since the crew was a mix of Dornish and common Westerosi people, she thought her life would either be in danger or smuggled anyways to safety.

"Where is the Silent Sister?" A man called out, and Sansa whipped her head around to see a taller, pale man with a long axe slung across his back, his silver armor with gold trimming blinding her, and she used her veil to shield her eyes. He looked different from the typical Dornish man that people had described to her when she was younger, and his accent was different, and much thicker than that of Prince Oberyn's and Ellaria Sand's. She slowly walked towards him, and she heard the crew whisper among themselves on.

"Isn't that Areo Hotah? Why has he come to retrieve a Silent Sister?"

"Someone in the Martells must have died."

"Do you think it was Prince Doran?"

"But we have Silent Sisters here. Why would they need us to bring one from King's Landing?"

"I heard this sister is the Viper's bastard."

"Seven hells, another one?"

When Sansa reached the tall man, he gave her no indication on his face of what he was thinking. Areo Hotah only served his master, and only his master and those closest to him would see the thoughts painted on his face. "This way." He said, turning and walking down the pathway to the glimmering white sands. Sansa made sure to walk a safe distance away from the man's long axe, noting the shine of the blade and shivered. _Would those edges be my fate in the future? _

Lady Sansa was mesmerized by the white sand. If the sky wasn't so clear, and the water not so blue, she would have thought she was back in Winterfell, running from her brothers in the snow. The reminder brought up painful memories of when it was just her, Robb, Jon and Arya and her mother still pregnant with Bran. The four of them would play Watchers and Wildlings in the courtyard of Winterfell, bothering everyone who ran into their path. Sansa was the poor Lady who had been kidnapped by the Wildlings, played by her clinging baby sister. Sansa breathed in deeply at the thought, coming back to her senses as the man had come to the face front to the cliffs. She watched curiously as he looked to see if no one was around or looking, and then proceeded to push to the right a slab of stone. The stone of the cliffs blended in so well, she would have never known that it could have been removed. When he was done pushing, Sansa saw a small torch on the other side, illuminating a long set of steeply made stairs carved into the cliffs. _A secret passageway, _Sansa gasped. The man took the torch and went inside, beckoning for her to follow him. She started to do as she bid, but stopped suddenly and rammed her foot into one of the steps. She made a small yelp, and the man looked back at her, confused. She ignored her pain for the time being, and pointed to the entrance, ever conscious that she should not talk fitting her new found status, trying to make an inquiry on who would close the passageway when they went up. The man understood, and nodded his head.

"Another guard followed me. He will close us in." He said shortly, turning around and continued to walk up the dark passageway. The sound of water dripping and rodents scurrying alongside her made Sansa feel queasy, and the swing of the man's axe lulled her into daydreams of slow falling onto the ground and being beaten by Joffrey's kingsguard. She shook herself out of the memory, and wiped her face of the sweat that started to pour from her hairline. She grunted with exertion, forcing herself to keep going as her legs became heavier and heavier with each step she took.

"Do you need rest?" The man asked, looking down at her. Sansa nodded her fervently, and leaned her body to the wall, resting her head on the stone. She breathed heavily, gasping for what little air there seemed to be in the narrow space as the man looked at her with disinterest. He seemed to think of something, and moved to grab something off of his side, a skin of some sorts, and shoved it into Sansa's hands. When she hesitated to drink it, because then she would have to remove her shroud, the man spoke.

"It's water. You may remove your veil to sip, miss. I know who you are." But Sansa did not remove her veil, her paranoia starting to grow larger and larger by the day. The man sighed heavily and spoke again.

"You are Lady Sansa. Prince Oberyn has sent you, and his brother is expecting you. He has been preparing for your arrival for some days now." Lady Sansa was at a loss for words.

"How…who are you ser?" Her meek voice was rusty and croaked from disuse, and she removed her veil slowly, showing her face to the pale man.

"I am Areo Hotah, captain of Prince Doran's guards. I was assigned to personally escort you to the castle my Lady."

"I…"

"We must keep moving, my Lady. Hurry."

And so as they kept climbing the stairs, Sansa wondered how quickly Prince Oberyn had gotten word to his brother that he was sending her. _His ravens might be of the more faster variety. _But Sansa wondered how the Prince of Dorne would react to her arrival. From what she knew in her septa's lessons, Prince Doran Martell was the mysterious patriarch of House Martell, rarely seen in public, but a very shrewd man whose endless planning knew no depths. She thought how the Prince might have reacted to her arrival, if he would be upset at the thought of caring for her or did he not care who came and went from his court. For a few brief moments, Sansa became scared that she might be once again tortured in an unfamiliar land. She sincerely prayed that she had not become tricked again.

"You must put your disguise back on. We enter the castle now." Areo announced, his hand barely pushing open a wooden door above their heads, and Sansa hurried to cover her flaming hair and sweaty face. Areo threw the door open and climbed the last few remaining steps, stretching out his arm to help Sansa whose was struggling after climbing for so long. He gave her no time to recover however, and immediately had her follow him. Lords and ladies of the court passed them as they both walked briskly to wherever Areo was leading them, whispering at the strange sight.

"Areo and a Silent Sister? Who has died?"

"Is Prince Doran alright?"

Areo sent them a glare as they continued to walk, and they all scattered away, looking back at them with indignation. Servants passed them with curious looks, but did not stop to stare like the nobles of the court had. The castle itself was beautiful, and Sansa thought that her dreams of the Dornish court were in no comparison to the actual thing. Red and orange silk curtains fluttered gently in the warm breezes of the open castle, with Martell banners hung from the ceiling, flowing. Areo opened a brown wooden door with a beautiful stained glass depiction of the Dornish sand and sea, and Areo pulled her in. Sansa could recognize it was a throne room, its great walls and tall arches with paintings and portraits of the ruling prince and princesses decorating the room. At the very end of the room, a tall throne atop a small set of stairs sat, and a man with graying hair and beard sat in it. His posture was tall, his back against the seat, and his golden crown with rubies and sapphires and opals sat atop of his head, making his black and white hair fall down messily on his forehead. _ Joffrey's crown wore him, but this man wears the crown. _Sansa thought. She felt intimidated by the man staring at her intensely from the throne, and Areo pushed her forward, gesturing that he would be behind her. Sansa walked slowly towards the front of the throne room as the man appraised her, stopping when she was far enough away from him but close enough to speak. She bowed out of respect, and hoped it was the right way to greet the ruling Prince of Dorne.

"Rise." He commanded, and she bid him his orders. Sansa could see his black eyes from where she stood, still marveling at the richness of the room and the clothes the prince wore. He was clad in a sea blue silk coat with white trimming and a leather belt with light breeches, tucked into black boots. If Prince Oberyn was of the same age as his brother, she might have thought they were twins. His tan skin was paler then other Dornishmen, even just a tint fairer then his brother's, but Sansa thought it was because of the rumors that he did not like to go outside much. The prince's face held no emotion as she fidgeted under her shroud in front of him.

"Lady Stark."

"Your Grace," Sansa replied.

"Remove your veil." Sansa removed her veil, her thick auburn hair tumbling down her back, and she felt shame at having to show the Prince her dirty face.

"My brother has taken great pains to smuggle you away from King's Landing. Why?" The Prince asked her. Sansa struggled to come up with an answer, because she herself still wasn't sure why the Red Viper had cared enough to send her to his homeland.

"I…I plead a safe place, Your Grace."

"You are wanted as a Kingslayer. I could demand anyone's head in exchange for your life." The Prince said nonchalantly and Sansa tensed. Would he refuse his brother's wishes?

"My Lord," Sansa said, willing her eyes not to fill with tears. "I have been falsely accused of this crime."

"How can I believe you, my Lady? The King killed everyone in your family. Why wouldn't you want revenge?"

"Please, Your Grace. I am not intelligent enough to think of such a plot," Sansa said sadly.

Prince Doran gave her an appraising look then, and didn't reply for a few minutes, thinking. He motioned for Areo to come forward, but halted him when he came next to Sansa.

"Escort the Lady to her chambers." Sansa lifted her eyes at the ground, happy that Prince Doran would let her stay in his castle. The Prince turned his steely gaze to her, looking her up and down.

"And you, my Lady, will join us for a meal in my solar when you have freshened up." He waved them off, turning his head to the side and looking out one of the large windows looking out towards the sea, contemplating. Areo took Sansa by the arm, leading her towards the doors. She hurried to put her veil back on when Areo tugged on it, but looked back at the Prince when she was done, curious about her new host, and hoping that even though he was a closed off man, he would be kind enough. The prince looked back at her then when she was about to pass through the doors, a strange look in his eye.

Dorne would take some time to grow used to.

* * *

Across leagues of oceans, Ellaria Sand lay on her bed, sobbing bitterly, at recent events. She told Oberyn, she told him _a thousand times, _to not rip her heart out so brutally and he did it anyways, leaving nothing for her. She tried to control her tears, but the more she tried to hold back, the more force they came out with. Her tan face was soaked with salty tears, and the cushion Oberyn would lay his head on at night was drowned in her surrows. She clutched his silky red coat and traced the sun sigil with her fingers, wanting to sob more when she heard her chamber doors open, but she did not pay attention to who it was. Strong arms snaked behind her as they squeezed and hugged her, and she huffed as he laughed heartily in her ear.

"Lover," The Viper said. "I bid you to cry no more, or at least not into my clothes. I just had this washed." He teased, and Ellaria hit him on the chest, still crying.

"I've told you countless times not to remind me of our girls. You know I miss them so, and yet you hand me a letter from our youngest knowing I would wail." She replied, and Oberyn grinned at her, moving in to kiss her, but Ellaria leans out of his way. "You do it to amuse yourself." She said, squinting her eyes in a glare at him.

"Aye, I do. Who else will comfort you when you do wail, hmm? And after you've been comforted…" He trails his arms down her thighs, and she slaps them away.

"Dirty swine," She whispers in his face. Oberyn chuckles and kisses his paramour, passion flowing through them despite his terrible loss the day before. Ellaria breaks the kiss, gasping when Oberyn moves her onto his lap and nips at her collarbone.

"Lover,"

"Ungh," He replied, kissing her skin.

"Have you written to your brother? Regarding the news?" Oberyn breaks off from her body, sighing in frustration and Ellaria pushes his hair out of his face.

"Yes, I told him about Tyrion's escape as a Kingslayer and his new title of Kinslayer." He growled. "Damn Cersei for sending the Mountain away to her rock, this whole journey has been a waste."

Ellaria stroked his face, running her fingers down his jaw. "Tywin Lannister," She whispered. "Is dead. Don't worry about it now."

"Dearest, I am a man who thrives on revenge." He said, massaging her hip. "I must worry about it."

"We will return home and worry about it then."

Oberyn sighed. "Aye. Home."

* * *

**AN: Oberyn is alive and well! I am SOOO sorry about the late update! Life became a little crazy, and honestly, I wanted to portray the rest of the Martells well, so it took a little longer. I hope this chapter is ok :/**

**By the way, would any of you be interested in a 8tracks mix for this story? It would mostly be instrumental/classical music to fit with the story, but I love having music on when I write, and it would be cool to share some of the music that inspired some of these scenes!**

**Follow me on tumblr at sun-spears!**


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